Concerto in E Major
by SpiderMonkeyLove23
Summary: Bella Swan is a world renowned Violinist. Edward Cullen is her new arrogant manager. He sees issues in her music that no one has before. Will she adjust to his orders while fighting unexplained feelings and preparing for the biggest show of her career? AH
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: You know the drill. Don't own it. Don't claim to. All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, though I wouldn't mind owning Edward Cullen.._**

Radiant. Astounding. Incomparable.

Isabella Swan had been called many, many things on account of her wondrous skill when it came to playing the Violin. Her compositions were critically acclaimed and the moment her bow ran across those strings, even the burliest of men could be brought to tears.

She'd been asked many times where her gift came from and each time, she would answer with a shrug. For she truly had no idea where she obtained it from. She'd taken no lessons as a child and none as an adult either.

Before the curtains were drawn and she was to play in front of thousands at the Palais de Garnier, she hurried to the small vanity table to apply a fresh coat of light makeup. She was constantly told that she was beautiful without, but she was always made up for a show.

"My lord," her manager moaned, appearing from the narrow hallway. A clear sheen of sweat was spread across his brow, his cheeks were puffed and flushed and he was fanning his face with his hand. "Could they not put a fan or something in this place? It's so hot." under her breath, Bella chuckled. She knew for a fact that the temperature was more than comfortable and that this happened wherever she and her manager traveled. "Dearest Isabella."

"Dearest James," she smiled as he took her hands. She wanted to cringe away at the moistness of his palms but decided against it. James was the nearest thing to family she had. She hated to even upset him. He assisted her in making a name of herself.

"I have some disheartening news," he began, sighing and wiping another drop of sweat with the light handkerchief. He chuckled and looked back up at her with a sad smile. "I'm afraid that after tonight, I will no longer be with you. My wife. She is very, very ill and I feel as if I should devote my time to what life she still has."

Bella couldn't fight the immediate tears that sprang into her eyes. It was heartbreaking to hear that his beloved wife Victoria had only gotten worse with her cancer but also heartbreaking to hear that she and James would be parting ways when this show was over.

"I'm very, sorry, my dear," he told her, holding her hands and dropping them, just as the lights were dropped. She knew immediately that that was her cue and, though she'd done this many a times, her nerves were on end. "But, it is time for you to go."

He placed her violin in her hands and placed a kiss on her cheek. She gave a small wave and watched him as he ran out of view. The curtains were then drawn and she was staring at the faces of a thousand Parisians. So, she cleared her throat, raised her bow and began to play.

She began with Moto Perpetuo by Paganini. Its quick pace and upbeat tune made her forget about what she had just been told. She closed her eyes and quickly ran the bow across the strings. The motion was rapid and one of the pieces that consumed every bit of her focus and concentration. Though her next piece wasn't nearly simple.

It was another Paganini piece. Caprice No. 24 in A. Minor. It started quick, but fluctuated in pace. Though never too slow, this was one piece she was completely comfortable with. Its haunting sound towards its end was one she would never forget. She was once told that Paganini was put on trial on various occasions, due to the fact that people thought he was possessed. He was _that _talented.

After numerous more songs, some hers, some not, she decided to conclude with Frederic Chopin's Nocturne in E minor. It was one of the few pieces she also knew for her piano, though her violin playing exceeded her piano playing, she still knew how to play some compositions. It was also one of her most melancholic pieces. To her, it reflected great sorrow and loss. Two feelings she knew much too well.

At the tender age of Seven, Bella's parents were murdered. She was never told just how it happened, for she had been away with a friend. She just recalled coming home from the weekend away to dejected faces and lots of tears. She was immediately shipped away to live with her estranged aunt.

The dilapidated house and unkempt yard was not something she was accustomed to. Her home in Forks Washington was small, but nice. This home was small and anything but nice. It was surrounded by homes that were just as horrid, if not worse.

"This is your home now. Get used to it," her aunt had said in her raspy voice. The cigarettes were obviously to blame.

After about a week in the horrid environment, she'd decided to do some exploring in the crowded third bedroom and ended up finding the old Violin. She'd never played an instrument before but she didn't see the harm in trying.

So she did.

She began to play, finding that she wasn't terrible. Somehow, she was able to play the Violin without sounding horrid. She eventually broke into her small, ceramic bank and bought a book of sheet music. From then on, she never stopped.

She played in the park for her enjoyment and quickly found that it paid well. Many people would pass by, dropping tips in the case and some even stopping to watch. She would put on a show for hours upon hours, since her aunt probably wouldn't begin to look for her.

As she grew older, her talent blossomed. She was number one chair in her high school orchestra all four years and once she reached college, she was being approached for a solo career. James happened to be one of those men.

How could she have foreseen that just four short years later, she would be on one of the most renowned stages in the world?

After her show concluded, she smiled, took her bow and exited stage left. She was filled with exuberance and glee. Her concerto was their music and their applause was hers. She never grew tiresome of the cheers of the crowd after every show. It kept her going.

"James!" she exclaimed, spotting James talking to a dashing young man. She'd never seen him before, but a part of her wished she had.

He towered over James, staring down at him with piercing Emerald eyes. His hair was tousled, flecked with shades of gold and red. His jaw was firm and taught, like he was listening intently was James had to say. He couldn't have been much older than Bella herself.

"Oh, Isabella," James grinned, waving her over. "I'd like you to meet somebody."

She carefully set the violin in its case and slid it aside. Maybe he was a close friend of James. She'd never seen him at this venue before and she'd played her once before. Maybe he was a beneficiary and was allowed back stage.

"Isabella," the unfamiliar man began. His voice ran so very smoothly, like a song. "I'm Edward Cullen. Pleased to meet you."

"It's Bella," she said apprehensively, holding out a hand for him to shake. His grip was firm, yet gentle. "It's a pleasure to meet you, also."

There was a bit of an awkward silence between the trio, until James decided to finally say something.

"Mr. Cullen will be taking over for me," James suddenly clapped, causing Bella to double take at him, as if the news of his early retirement was just hitting her. Mr. Cullen didn't seem like he would do a bad job as her manager. He just seemed a bit young for the job. "I hope you find him satisfactory. Mr. Cullen, as you have clearly seen, Ms. Isabella is very talented. "

"Yes," he said somewhat absentmindedly. "Very talented, indeed."

He watched as Bella and James bid their goodbyes to each other and he quickly left, leaving the two of them alone in the silence. Once the door was completely shut, his head snapped in Bella's direction. Suddenly, the soft expression was gone and was replaced with something much, much rougher.

"You over reach for your G sharp on the D string," he began. "And the D sharp on the A string."

She stood flabbergasted at his comment. She'd never been _criticized _before.

"It wouldn't hurt to pull back some," he finished. "Also, we have lots of practice to do so I've arranged for a private session here tomorrow morning. Six AM _sharp. _Goodnight, Isabella."

She stood fuming as he walked away in stride, not taking one look at her as he left the building. Somehow, she just knew that she and this Mr. Cullen were about to _dance. _And not in the physical sense.

**I know this wasn't terribly long but I just wanted to post a little bit to see if people liked it or not. I have literally prayed that this story be received well because I really like this idea. I don't know much about music so I tried to get things right. Anyways, I wont update without reviews. I don't care how many. 2 would be fine for me. But yeah, hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Oh! I will post the picture of the **_**Palais de Garnier **_**on my profile. Its GORGEOUS.**


	2. Chapter 2

With nothing on her mind but the fiery demise of a certain _Mr. Cullen _Bella returned to her hotel room and began playing away. Each time her music would quiet down, Edward's face would flash through her mind and her music would just intensify. This pattern seemed to continue on until she realized she was due back at the Palais de Garnier for her lesson with Edward. After one quick shower, she packed up her violin and left the room in no hurry.

She took her time arriving at the venue and she was pleased to see the frustration on Edward's face when she walked onto the stage fifteen minutes late. A sour look was present upon his face and his arms were folded tightly across his chest.

"You're late," he miffed, watching her as she crossed the stage and began unloading the instrument. "The best musicians are punctual."

"I guess I'm not one of the best," she shrugged. "Let's just get this over with…what was your name? John?"

"Edward," he said through the clenched teeth. "I am your manager and you will treat me with respect."

"Dully noted, John."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd known this girl for no more than a few hours and already his patience was wearing thin. She snorted quietly and positioned herself to play.

"What do you want me to play, _John_?" she condescended with a smug grin. "Actually, I think I'll decide what I play. How about some Glazunov? I think that's what I'll do."

She didn't wait for him to object before she began playing. Ignoring his presence completely, she played as if he was alone. While this concerto wasn't the happiest sounding one that Glazunov had preformed, she enjoyed the downtrodden sound and if it made Edward unhappy then she would play slow, depressing concertos all day long.

"A bit dark, don't you think?" he said curtly once she had finished.

"I'm like the queen of darkness," she rolled her eyes. "What problems did you have with that one, John?"

"For starters, you can quit calling me John. My name is Edward and you will call me as such. Furthermore, one of your biggest problems that I can see is that I don't feel any energy coming from your work. You may play the violin but you don't _play _the violin."

"I _play _the violin," she hissed with air quotes. "What do you know about music anyway? You're probably some inner city low life who is just looking for a job to get you through the day. How did you even get this job? Did James pick you up off of the street, get you cleaned up and give you shelter? Poor little Edward."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he hissed. "So I advise you start playing before I take your violin and smash it into pieces."

She chortled loudly. "How about I just leave so the only music you hear is the sound of me walking through that door?"

She placed the violin and its case and began walking away.

"You're a child!" he called after her. "You'll never make it in this business if you keep acting the way that you do!"

She threw up her middle finger in a classless manner and hurried out of the building. As far as she was concerned, she needed no manager. She would survive on her own. She would find her own venues. Build her own crowd. Before James, she was fine on her own.

Now would be no different.

For the remainder of the day, she wondered through the city, scouting the perfect spot to begin playing. She did best on the streets. The venues were just a formality.

"Stupid Edward Cullen," she hissed under her breath as she walked through one of Paris' many parks. The weather was perfect for an Autumn day. The bright sun streamed through the vivacious leaves that had yet to fall from the trees. "I don't need him."

"Uhm, excuse me," someone suddenly said behind her. Bella turned around to find a petite girl staring at her with a broad grin and glowing eyes. Her hair was short and dark, sticking out from her head in every which way. "Are you Bella Swan? My name is Alice. I saw you play last night and I was just wondering if I could get your autograph?"

Bella had never been asked for an autograph. This was completely new to her.

"Uh..sure," Bella reluctantly signed the slip of paper the girl had held out for her. After receiving the autograph, the girl giggled happily and hurried away. She hurried away from Bella to greet a woman Bella had only dreamed of meeting.

Esme Platt.

"Yeah, mom, I got her autograph," Alice beamed proudly at Esme. Bella stood frozen on the path as she finally came face to face with her idol. "Go talk to her!"

Esme smiled and nodded and walked towards Bella.

"My daughter is very fond of your work," Esme said to Bella once they stood face to face.

"Ye-yeah," Bella breathed, nearly shaking. "You're Esme Platt. The greatest Cellist…ever."

"I wouldn't say ever," Esme chuckled. "You're Bella Swan. I saw you play last night. My daughter and I quite enjoyed the show. You're very talented, Bella."

Was this truly happening or was she dreaming?

"Thank you," Bella gushed. "My manager doesn't seem to think so.."

"Oh whose your manager?" Esme asked curiously.

"His name is Edward Cullen. I'm sure you haven't heard of him."

"Oh that's my son," Esme smiled, unaware of the bombshell she had just dropped.

"She's your mother?" Bella exploded, busting into the Palais. Somehow she knew he would still be there and of course he was. Only this time he was playing. He was playing the Cello just as his mother had done in her day. The music was marvelous but not enough to extinguish Bella's anger.

"Who are you talking about?" Edward asked nonchalantly as he continued playing. Still extremely angry, she stole the bow from his hands.

"Esme Platt, the greatest Cellist of our generation. Did you just forget to tell me that?"

"You were too busy acting like a child for me to actually say anything. Maybe if you would stop running your mouth as fast as you run your bow, I could explain myself."

"Well then explain!"

"Alright fine," he stood from his chair. "Esme Platt is my mother. I don't see what the big deal is."

"The big damn deal is that I have worshipped her since I started playing the violin and her son is the most arrogant son of a bitch on the planet. That's what the big deal is. Oh and you also forgot to tell me that your sister worships me."

"I was going to tell before I found out what an arrogant bitch you are," he packed up his cello. "Good day Ms. Swan."

With those last words, he left the building. Moments later, Bella followed suit and headed back to her hotel room feeling something she couldn't remember ever feeling before.

It was late that night when she finally left her hotel room. The midnight hour was quickly approaching and all she could think about was Edward Cullen. As far as her memory would allow, she couldn't remember anybody ever standing up to her the way he did. While his hurtful comments made her angry, they also kindled a different kind of fire inside her, one that burned in the most comfortable of ways. However, not knowing what the feeling was frustrated her and she soon found herself in one of the nicest bars around.

She drank and drank until her world became hazy and as she stood she stumbled. She insisted to the bartender that she had no keys to drive with and the bar tender reluctantly let her leave.

"Bella?" Edward called out as he noticed her stumbling on the sidewalk. He hurried to her side and caught her as she nearly fell to the ground. "What on earth are you doing?"

"That is a good question," she slurred, jabbing his chest gently. "Let me go. I can walk."

"No, you can't. I'm taking you back to your room," he insisted. He held onto her tightly as he walked back to Bella's room with her at his side. Once he'd explained the situation to the doorman, he took Bella up to her room and gently set her on the bed. "You truly are a mess."

He knew that nothing he said would be heard. She was out cold.

"A beautiful, crazy mess."


End file.
